


little bit of me, little bit of you

by Potrix



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Children, Confusion, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Fluff, Fatherhood, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hydra (Marvel), Kid Fic, M/M, Memories, Memory Loss, Misunderstandings, Mpreg, One Big Happy Family, POV Bucky Barnes, Parenthood, Past Mpreg, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Siblings, Step-parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-18 23:29:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14224173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/pseuds/Potrix
Summary: Bucky looks up, and for one terrifying moment, before Stark acknowledges the kid, too, he thinks his programming is acting up again, making him hallucinate.Because right there, gym bag slung over his shoulder, and a bicycle helmet tucked under his arm, stands a boy who looks so much like Bucky remembers himself looking almost a century ago, that Bucky has the sudden, hysterical urge to pinch himself to make sure he isn’t dreaming.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> One day, I'll write something that isn't kid fic. Maybe. Eventually. But today is not that day. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> For the [@imaginetonyandbucky](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/post/172625801013/imagine-that-tony-has-a-kid-that-looks-so-much) prompt: "Imagine that Tony has a kid that looks so much like Bucky but nobody but Bucky can see it. Later they found out that the guy Tony hooked up in his 20 was WS on a mission."
> 
> I didn't feel like it needed to be put in the tags since the sex Bucky and Tony had back in the day was entirely consensual, even if neither knew who the other was. But let this be your warning for sex under false pretense/without all the info, I guess?

Bucky’s rubbing a towel over his sweaty hair, considering whether he actually wants to cook something healthy, or if he’s too beat after his workout to bother, when something crashes into his legs. Bucky curses, startled, and the something—or someone, rather—gasps, and says, “Those were lots of bad words.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Bucky says, throwing his towel over his shoulder, and winks at the little boy sitting at his feet. He doesn’t look like he’s hurt, but Bucky still asks, “You okay, buddy?”

The boy nods, using Bucky’s gym shorts to pull himself upright. Then he hugs Bucky’s leg, chin digging into Bucky’s thigh, and stares up at Bucky, yawning loudly. Bucky glances around, somewhat helpless, but the dressing room is empty apart from the two of them.

Putting a gentle hand on the boy’s head, Bucky asks, “What’re you doin’ here all by yourself?”

“I live here,” the boy says, slowly, as if he thinks that was the dumbest question imaginable. “This is my house.”

Bucky’d figured as much—a lot of Stark Industries employees live on site, and it’s near impossible to gain access to the residents’ recreational areas without proper ID—but the boy doesn’t seem inclined to explain further, busying himself with trying to stand on Bucky’s left shoe with both of his bare feet.

“Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS pipes up, making the boy scowl at the closest speaker, “I apologise for the inconvenience. Sir is on his way to retrieve young Master Theodore.”

“No!” the boy, Theodore, wails, “No fair! No snitching!”

He goes limp, lower lip pushed out into a pout, and slowly slides down Bucky’s leg. Bucky watches, amused, as Theodore sprawls out on the floor, and has to bite back an actual laugh when eyes wet with the beginnings of what will undoubtedly turn into big, fat crocodile tears are turned on him. He does crouch down and pick Theodore up, though, when Theodore makes grabby hands at him.

“No fair,” Theodore repeats, mumbled, as he tucks his face into the crook of Bucky’s neck, “I’m not tired.”

“‘Course not,” Bucky agrees mildly, carrying Theodore out through the gym towards the elevators. “JARVIS, can you let Mr Stark know that I’ve found his lil’ runaway? I’ll bring him upstairs, if that’s okay?”

Theodore huffs, but is obviously too tired to make too much of a fuss. He grumbles under his breath, but doesn’t try to escape, absently playing with a few strands of hair that must’ve escaped Bucky’s bun as they wait to be taken up to the penthouse floor.

Bucky hasn’t been up there yet in the month he’s been living at the tower, either visiting Stark in his workshop for prosthesis maintenance and weapon upgrades, or seeing him around the communal Avengers floor during meetings and the occasional meal. He hasn’t seen any of the Stark kids around until today, but that’s probably mostly due to the weird hours Bucky keeps. And the fact that he’s still not entirely comfortable around most people, grumpy, overtired escape artists notwithstanding, apparently.

It’s obvious, though, now that he’s looking properly, who Theodore’s parent is; his hair and skin are a shade or two darker than Stark’s, but other than that, he looks almost eerily like a tiny version of his father, from the curious brown eyes right to his currently scrunched up button nose.

Bucky may have spent a moment or two watching Stark, when no one was looking. Stark’s gorgeous, and Bucky’s only human, so sue him.

Stark is waiting for them when the elevator doors slide open, arms crossed, and brows raised. Theodore whines, and throws his arms around Bucky’s neck, clinging tightly.

“Yeah, no,” Stark says, mouthing a silent, “Sorry,” at Bucky as he walks over. “You know that’s not going to work, kiddo. C’mon; teeth, PJs, and then bed.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky notices a second kid pulling himself up to peer over the back of the couch. He opens his mouth, but snaps it shut again without saying anything at the warning look Stark shoots him, flopping back down out of sight with a roll of his eyes.

Theodore starts crying when Stark goes to peel him off Bucky. It tugs at Bucky’s heartstrings, even though he knows Theodore is a total faker, and Stark can clearly tell, going by the way his mouth twitches. Once he has Theodore settled on his hip, mostly resigned to his fate, Stark claps Bucky on the shoulder, and says, “Thanks. There’s juice and water in the fridge, if you want to hang around for a while. I’ve got some blueprints for you, and I could use your input on the joint issue.”

“If you’re sure?” Bucky asks, feeling a little like he’s intruding.

But Stark just nods, and nudges him in the direction of the kitchen, so Bucky goes. He grabs a juice box out of the fridge, and then, not sure what else to do until Stark’s done convincing Theodore that it’s time to go to sleep, wanders back out into the living area. The second kid is still on the couch, a book open on his lap, but he looks up when Bucky sits down in one of the armchairs.

“Where did you find Theo?” he asks, and grins excitedly when Bucky tells him. “Awesome. He’s never made it this far before.”

It takes Bucky a moment before he realises, “You were in on this?”

“I disabled JARVIS’ sensors in the employee stairway,” the kid explains, chest puffed out proudly. “For seventeen whole seconds. It’s a new record.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to do that,” Bucky says, and hides a laugh under a cough when JARVIS says, “No, he is not,” and the kid sticks out his tongue.

He frowns when JARVIS reminds him that his bedtime is in forty minutes, but doesn’t otherwise make a fuss. He closes his book, carefully putting it on the coffee table, and picks up a tablet instead before knee-walking across the couch to sit cross-legged at the end closest to Bucky. “Do you know any Spanish?”

Bucky does, although he can’t remember why. Unlike some other unexpected remnants of his HYDRA programming, he doesn’t mind the language skills. The kid—”Maximilian, but only Papa ever calls me that, and only when he’s mad. You can call me Max.”—starts up some word learning game, angling the tablet so Bucky can see, too, and clicks on the first assignment.

“Papa and Tío Léon both speak Spanish,” Max explains, glancing up at Bucky for confirmation before saving his answer, and moving on to the next question. “But Papa’s mom was from Spain, and Tío Léon lives in Guatemala, in the city, and sometimes words are different?” He gets an answer wrong, and huffs at the tablet. “Gabriel’s way better at this already.”

By the time Stark joins them, about ten minutes later, Bucky has learned that Gabriel is the oldest Stark child, currently still at football practice—”Soccer football, not football football.”—and doesn’t like it when people call him Gabe, but Elio is fine, even though, “It doesn’t even make sense, he’s so stupid.”

Stark kisses the top of Max’s head, and in return, Max squeezes Stark’s cheeks, snickering at the grimace it makes Stark pull. “Papa, can I have a snack?” he asks, and, when it looks like Stark is about to refuse, he wheedles, “Mr James is probably hungry, too, you know.”

“Veggies or some of the chia crackers,” Stark says, giving in, and pats Max’s butt when Max scrambles off the couch with a victorious whoop. Once Max is out of earshot he adds, “Manipulative little shit,” but sounds fond more than anything.

Max returns a minute later with a plate full of carrots, celery sticks, crackers, and hummus, and plants himself in Bucky’s lap, giving Stark a challenging look. Bucky does not laugh, but it’s a near thing. Stark just rolls his eyes, and snags the tablet, bringing up the blueprints.

They go over Stark’s suggestions for the problem joint in Bucky’s elbow, being fed carrots and celery by Max, who sneaks most of the crackers and hummus himself when he thinks the adults aren’t looking. Max manages to push his bedtime back a few minutes by insisting he wants to say goodnight to Gabriel, even though Bucky suspects waiting up for his brother is just a convenient excuse.

Which is confirmed when Gabriel eventually walks into the penthouse, and Max doesn’t even glance up from the book he’s back to reading. Bucky does look up, though, and for one terrifying moment, before Stark acknowledges the kid, too, he thinks his programming is acting up again, and making him hallucinate.

Because right there, gym bag slung over his shoulder, and a bicycle helmet tucked under his arm, stands a boy who looks so much like Bucky remembers himself looking almost a century ago, that Bucky has the sudden, hysterical urge to pinch himself to make sure he isn’t dreaming.


	2. Chapter 2

It has to be a coincidence—a weird, improbable, very uncanny coincidence—and Bucky really, honestly tries to convince himself of that, at first. Because even in a world with actual aliens living and working among everyday humans, super soldiers and superheroes running around New York, and hot dogs costing more than two fucking dollars, what are the chances that Bucky, somehow, had a child with his current crush more than a decade ago without either of them remembering anything about it?

They’re pretty slim, is what they are.

Bucky has ample reason to doubt that he was in any way involved in creating Gabriel, and one of the biggest one is Steve. Bucky’s memory is, admittedly, still full of holes and untruths, but Steve’s known Bucky since they were toddlers, and he’s always been excellent at remembering even the most asinine things, even long before he got the serum. If there’s one other person aside from Bucky who’d see any potential similarities between Bucky and Gabriel, if there were any, it would be Steve.

But Steve hadn’t said anything before moving Bucky into the tower, and had only tilted his head, shrugged, and said, “Huh, you think so?” when Bucky had made a joke that wasn’t really one about how Gabriel could be his little brother or cousin, looks-wise.

So, Bucky tries to let the whole thing go. And fails, miserably.

He can’t explain why, or how, but he just knows. He knows there’s something more here, something he can’t recall, something just beyond reach, that was stolen from him, and he’s determined to find out what, exactly. And get it back.

The very first thing he learns—and probably should’ve expected—is that tracking down baby photos of someone who’s supposed to have died over seventy years ago, and has no more living relatives is a huge pain in the ass. He does eventually find a few, in a private art collection centred around the Howlies, of all places, but the owner is more than happy to send him copies in exchange for one of those tacky autograph cards Avengers PR insists they all carry around with them.

Once he has the pictures, carefully laid out on his kitchen counter, Bucky has to admit that he can’t blame Steve for not noticing. At first glance, Gabriel looks like Stark, just like his brothers, and doesn’t seem to have anything in common with Bucky at six, or fifteen, or twenty. They all have the same colouring, the same basic facial structure, even the same cheeky smile. Stark’s gene game is pretty strong, to put it short.

But it’s there, in the details, the resemblance that had initially thrown Bucky so much; that stubborn hair whorl that seems nearly untamable, the dimple in the left cheek that only ever makes an appearance during full-on belly laughter, the tiny little beauty mark under the right ear, some of the distinctive mannerisms, like the way the both move, sometimes, when they tuck their hair behind their ears, or try to hold back a smirk.

None of it is obvious, though, not unless someone’s actively looking. And Bucky can’t seem to stop, once he has admitted, to himself at least, that Gabriel has to be his.

Natasha’s silence is simultaneously skeptical and judging when Bucky calls her up to ask for a favour. He doesn’t delude himself that he won’t be interrogated about his sketchy behaviour eventually, but Nat promises to get him the HYDRA mission reports involving the Winter Soldier from the year before Gabriel’s birth, and that’s all that matters.

With that done, all Bucky can do, unfortunately, is wait. He briefly considers just flat out asking Tony about it, but he doesn’t actually think Tony knows much more than he does himself, as unlikely as that sounds. Tony hadn’t seemed like he’d met Bucky before, when Steve had introduced them, or acted like he was hiding something, or keeping secrets. And they might not have known each other for too long yet, but Bucky refuses to believe that Tony’s the sort of person who would lie like this, about his own child.

Before Bucky can drive himself crazy by overthinking the situation, and going over what little evidence he has again and again, Tony himself actually, albeit unknowingly, gives him his next clue.

The boys are parked on the couch when Bucky walks into the penthouse, not arguing or bickering for once, but all talking at once and over each other at the smiling man on the screen of the tablet that sits on the coffee table in front of them. Gabriel is talking about his science project, while Max whines about how unfair Tony’s being about something or other, and Theo just throws out all the Spanish words he’s learned recently, from the sound of it.

“Come on,” Tony says, appearing in the kitchen doorway, “they won’t even notice you’re here. They haven’t talked to Léon in a while, I think they’re updating him on literally everything that’s happened over the last two months.”

They settle at the kitchen table, where both Tony’s tools, and a cup of coffee for Bucky are already waiting. Tony’d suggested moving their maintenance sessions up to the penthouse a few weeks ago, as long as no bigger machinery or anything was needed. It’s definitely more comfortable, and usually ends with Bucky staying for lunch or dinner, and then a movie or games with the kids. Or just the food, movie, and games, more and more often.

He’d jumped at the chance to get to know Gabriel the first time Tony had invited him to stay for grilled cheeses and creamy tomato soup—it had been Theo’s day to choose lunch—but it’s not only his curiosity that keeps him coming back. He’d grown up in a huge family, with five sisters and little cousins always around, and he misses it. Still having Steve helps, a lot, but playing, snuggling, or roughhousing with the boys just settles something in Bucky, and always manages to calm him down or cheer him up, depending on what kind of day he’s had.

And getting some quality time with Tony is a definite plus, too.

“So,” Bucky says, once Tony’s knuckle deep in the wiring of his arm, and conveniently not looking at Bucky to see how much he’s currently failing at being subtle, “I’m assumin’ Léon is the famous Tío Léon?”

It’s not that Bucky’s jealous, because he’s got neither the right nor a reason to be—he gets to see the boys and Tony at least three to four times a week, these days—but Tío Léon is a constant topic of conversation in the Stark household. Still, he doesn’t expect the question to make Tony pause, and chew his bottom lip for a moment before sitting back, a strangely intense expression on his face.

Bucky is about to apologise for overstepping when Tony says, “He’s their father. Max and Theo’s.”

Even though he’s not sure why, Bucky can tell Tony’s being defensive. He must realise it, too, because a moment later he deflates, breathing out in one long whoosh, and sheepishly rubs at the back of his neck. “Sorry. I—not everyone’s happy with our arrangement. I keep getting shit for it still, which. I can brush it off easy enough, but I don’t want my kids too see or hear any of that.”

“Fuck those people,” Bucky says, frowning, and Tony snorts, the last of the tension leaving his shoulders. Then he points at Tony, and warns, “I’m not puttin’ a dollar in the jar for that, the boys didn’t even hear.”

“Fair,” Tony allows, but the silence that follows is uncharacteristically awkward, for them.

It’s Bucky who breaks it after a moment. “You don’t have to, obviously, but you can tell me, if you want. I’ll listen. An’ only judge you quietly.”

“Asshole,” Tony quips back, smiling again as he kicks Bucky’s foot. Then he groans, tipping his head back, clearly embarrassed when he says, “Theo was my midlife crisis, I think. I just. Woke up one day, and realised I was almost forty, and that if I wanted more kids, I should probably get on that. Léon was happy to help out again.”

Bucky has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying something dumb like, “I bet he did,” but he manages.

“And Max—I was an only child, and I hated it,” Tony sighs, absently playing with the small drill in his hand. “I didn’t want that for Gabriel. And having children had always been a vague plan for the future, so. After Gabriel, I knew I definitely wanted more, and I didn’t want to wait forever. And so we had Max.”

“But you’re not together?” Bucky guesses, trying to not sound hopeful. “Anymore?”

Tony shakes his head. “Never were. We met in college, kept in touch over the years, hooked up sometimes when we were both single. I love him, as a friend and the father of my children, but it was never more, for neither of us. He agreed to help me, uh, make Max and Theo, but he never wanted to be a dad. Which was perfect, really, since I wanted kids, not a boyfriend.”

It feels like he’s pressing his luck, but he most likely won’t get another chance like this one. Hiding his trembling hands under the table, heart feeling like it’s about to beat out of his chest, Bucky asks, “And what about Gabriel?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is now officially a story full of cliffhangers, I guess? Also, I’m thinking of Oscar Isaac when I talk about Léon. Just imagine how gorgeous those kids have to be? Not very tall, but gorgeous.


	3. Chapter 3

With an annoyed huff, Bucky rolls onto his other side yet again, squinting at the clock on his phone. 3:28 in the morning. He usually gets up around five—one of the things he’s most bitter about having lost at the hands of HYDRA is the ability to sleep in—so he might as well give up on sleep altogether for tonight.

It’s not like he needs eight hours a night, or even to sleep more than three to four times a week to function, but being kept awake by his mind running a mile a minute, going over every little detail of his earlier conversation with Tony, over and over and over again, isn’t exactly fun.

Yawning, Bucky shuffles into the kitchen to start the coffee maker, even though he’s pretty sure caffeine doesn’t really do anything for him anymore. As long as the placebo effect still works, though, he’ll keep drinking it. He sheds his shirt on the way to the bathroom, and leaves his sweats on the bathmat, then backtracks to pick up both and throw them in the hamper, because even almost a century later, he can still hear his mama scolding him for leaving his shit lying around.

The shower wakes him up a little, though it does nothing stop his racing thoughts. He still has no idea how he managed to act normally through Tony talking about Gabriel, and then all through lunch, and spending the afternoon at the pool with the boys, too. Then again, he’s learned to compartmentalise during his time with HYDRA. He’d just never thought he’d have to use that particular skill to keep himself from freaking out about potentially being a father.

Towel slung around his hips, he moves back to the kitchen, where Nat is perched on the counter, tapping away at her phone, and sipping at a cup of coffee. Bucky scowls at her. “There better be enough left for me.”

Nat, without looking up, points her foot at the table, where another steaming mug is waiting. Bucky flops down in a chair, pops his feet up on another, picks up his mug, and raises his eyebrows at Nat. “Thought you were still in Belarus?”

“I was,” Nat says, putting down her phone, and picking up the manila folder sitting next to her instead. “And then I came across this.”

The HYDRA logo on the front is faded, but still clearly recognisable, and Bucky can just make out the writing beneath it; _Asset Deployments, 2000 to 2003_.

Bucky’s fingers twitch around his mug, making Nat raise an eyebrow back at him. “You still owe me an explanation, James.”

Bucky sighs, but nods. “I know. Lemme get dressed, then we’ll talk.”

Unsurprisingly, Nat has already found his research folder by the time he gets back, and looks entirely unapologetic about snooping around. Bucky rolls his eyes, but starts pulling out papers, arranging them on the table. Nat watches silently, but her eyes widen ever so slightly once she puts together what Bucky’s getting at.

“Well.” She drums her fingernails on the table, shooting Bucky a small, sad smile. “This is definitely something.”

“Tell me ‘bout it,” Bucky says through a tired laugh. “You read the HYDRA stuff already?”

Nodding, Nat opens the manila folder, rifling through the papers until she finds what she’s looking for. It’s a report from mid-2001, and Bucky’s heart skips a beat when when he sees the mission location was Barcelona. That—it has to be it. It just has to.

He skims over the report, ignoring everything but the details he’s looking for; the exact dates, the timeline, his name and, most importantly, disguise during the mission. And it fits. It all fits. Hand trembling, Bucky fumbles for a chair, dropping down onto it with a shaky breath.

 _“I’m not proud of it, but I’m not ashamed, either. Because Gabriel came out of it, and he’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me,”_ Tony had said, as if Bucky could ever doubt his devotion to his children. _“We were celebrating a friend’s thirtieth in Barcelona, partying it up for—I don’t know, days. Honestly, I don’t remember all of it, especially the last night or so. But there was this guy, at one of the clubs. I don’t know what it was about him, but I remember feeling drawn to him. Well. Long story short, we ended up in the bathroom together, had half an hour of fun, and then he left. When I got back to Miami a week later I was pregnant, which is how I found out I was a carrier in the first place. Never was able to find the guy again, but short black hair and Sebastián wasn’t really much to go on.”_

“James,” Nat says gently, squeezing his shoulder.

Bucky blinks, glancing up at her. “Gabriel’s my kid.”

To her credit, Nat doesn’t ask if he’s sure. She does ask, “What are you going to do about that?” though, and Bucky—Bucky has absolutely no idea.

As it turns out, what Bucky’s going to do about it is nothing.

He means to, he really does, but when he goes up to the penthouse the next day, Theo throws himself at Bucky, wailing miserably, while Max yells about something being mean and unfair, and Tony fails at getting a word in edgewise. By the time Theo is asleep in Bucky’s arms, Max sitting quietly on the couch, and Gabriel has tentatively reappeared from his room, Tony looks about as exhausted as Bucky feels, and it just isn’t the right moment to bring up what Bucky’s found out.

Then there’s a Doombot attack a few days later, and then right after that, Bucky’s sent on an undercover mission for a good two weeks. He sure as hell isn’t going to mention it at Max’s birthday party, or during the team BBQ, or when he and Tony take the boys to the zoo.

Bucky’s aware that he’s making up excuses—and not only because Nat keeps shooting him looks—and that not saying anything isn’t fair, not to Tony, nor Gabriel, nor himself, but he just can’t bring himself do it. It’s cowardly, and the guilt keeps eating away at him as the weeks pass, but still, it doesn’t happen.

Because the thing is, Bucky is happy, the secret he’s keeping notwithstanding. He’s happy when Theo cries about bedtime, when Gabriel whines his way through his French homework, when Max refuses to eat his veggies, and when Tony falls asleep on his shoulder once the boys are finally in bed, after they’ve spent the day dealing with all their little problems and tantrums together. He has a family, unconventional as it may be, and even though it’s not exactly everything Bucky wants, it’s pretty fucking close. And he’s—he’s just so happy.

It’s been a very, very long time since Bucky’s been this happy, and as selfish as it is, he’s not willing to lose that.

“What’s up with you today?” Tony asks, bumping his shoulder against Bucky’s. “You okay?”

They’d taken advantage of a Saturday with no Avengers business, and the boys all at various friends’ houses to go out for lunch, just the two of them for once. It would’ve been the perfect opportunity to come clean, Bucky’d realised halfway through, and been distracted for the rest of the meal, and their stroll through the neighbourhood.

He should’ve known Tony would notice; he’s scarily good at reading Bucky’s moods, sometimes even before Bucky himself knows what, exactly, is going on with him. Tony calls it his Dad Sense, and cackles every time Bucky wrinkles his nose in response.

“Sorry,” Bucky says, and throws an arm around Tony’s shoulders, jostling him playfully. “Just thinkin’, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Well, don’t hurt yourself,” Tony teases, eyes twinkling as he grins up at Bucky. But then his expression sobers, and he stops Bucky with a hand on his chest, suddenly looking serious. “I’ve been, too. Thinking, I mean.”

He shifts nervously, ducking his head, the tips of his ears turning pink. He licks his lips, hands settling on Bucky’s sides. “Let me know if I’ve read this wrong, all right?”

Before Bucky can ask what he means, Tony kisses him.

For one glorious moment, everything is perfect; Tony’s lips moving against Bucky’s, Tony’s eyes fluttering shut, Bucky’s own hands coming up to frame Tony’s face, his thumbs softly caressing Tony’s cheeks.

And then Bucky wrenches himself away, and flees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned you about the cliffhangers. And yes, Bucky’s undercover name was Sebastián. I did that. No regrets.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No more cliffhangers, I promise!

He’s not proud of it, but after spending a week holed up in his apartment, curtains drawn and JARVIS on emergency-only mode, Bucky can’t deny that he’s hiding anymore. He’s been ordering food from the various restaurants in the tower to be delivered to his door, working out on the treadmill in his living room, watching a definitely unhealthy amount of daytime television, and feeling like shit through all of it.

It’s been days since he’s seen or talked to Tony and the boys, and he misses them. He’d been aware that he was spending a lot of time with them, but hadn’t realised just how much until the first day he’d found himself standing in his kitchen, done with everything he’d planned for the day, and it hadn’t even been lunchtime.

And it’s all his own damn fault, too. Tony kissing him had blindsided him, but he’d gone with it, and it had been amazing. Right up until Bucky’d remembered that he’d been lying to Tony for months, and a wave of guilt so intense he’d actually felt sick had nearly knocked him off his feet. He’d torn himself away, seen the blissed out look on Tony’s face starting to turn into one of hurt, and hadn’t even thought about it before literally running away, leaving Tony standing there on the sidewalk, lost and confused.

Like a total idiot, Bucky’d spent weeks and weeks keeping this huge, life changing secret from Tony, scared that he’d lose his friend, his newfound family, if the truth ever came out, only to end up not only losing them anyway, but also denying himself the chance to actually be with Tony.

Or ever be a parent to Gabriel. Because even if Bucky admits the truth now, there’s no way in hell Tony will just conveniently forget and forgive everything Bucky has and hasn’t done since meeting them.

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic, jeez,” Steve says, when Bucky tells him as much.

Bucky lifts his face from where he’s got it buried in a couch cushion to glare at him. It’s not like he’d asked Steve to come over—he had, in fact, tried very hard to avoid his dumb best friend, and his dumb, understanding face—but if Steve insists on being here, the least he can do is indulge Buck, and let him feel sorry for himself in peace.

“Shuddup,” Bucky grumbles, “you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Yes,” Steve agrees, kicking at Bucky’s legs. “Because you won’t tell me what this super bad, terrible, absolutely unforgivable thing you’ve done actually is.”

Before Bucky can say anything, he holds up his hands, sighing heavily. “You won’t tell me because you don’t want to go behind Tony’s back, I know. And I respect that. But I don’t know how to help you if I don’t even know what’s going on.”

“Didn’t ask for your help,” Bucky mumbles, muffled as he re-buries his face in the cushion. “You just showed up ‘ere.”

“Oh, excuse me,” Steve quips back, all sarcasm. “Next time my brother doesn’t answer my texts and calls for a week, I’ll just move on, and look for a new one instead of going to check what’s wrong.”

Because he’s a stubborn asshole, Bucky stays quiet. Steve sighs, again, and gets up, walking out of the room. But he comes back a few minutes later, setting a mug of, from the smell of it, Bucky’s favourite tea down on the coffee table near Bucky’s head.

The couch dips a moment later, and Steve’s hand lands on Bucky’s back, rubbing up and down slowly. “Listen, Buck. I might not know what exactly is going on, or what’s happened between you and Tony, but I know you’re hurting. Both of you. And Tony can be brash and even mean if he’s angry, but he’s one of the kindest, sweetest, most forgiving people I know. And I really think you owe it to the both of you to at least try and talk to him.”

Steve’s right, of course he is, and Bucky knows it. “Yeah,” he says, “I know. ‘S not easy, though.”

Steve gives his shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “Never said it was, bud.”

“Ugh,” Bucky groans, and sits up enough to grab his mug, and shoot Steve a look full of feigned annoyance. “Stop makin’ sense. It’s freakin’ me out.”

“Fuck you,” Steve says happily, smiling wildly.

Bucky stays on the couch even after Steve leaves, half dozing, and half trying to come up with a plan that won’t result in Tony never wanting anything to do with him ever again. He’s startled out of his thoughts by a knock on his front door. A quick glance at his phone confirms that it’s still a little early for his dinner to arrive, but he heaves himself up anway. He can go get it, and put it in the oven to stay warm, at least.

The last person he expects to see when he opens the door is Tony, but that’s exactly who he finds. “Uhm.”

Contrary to what Bucky had expected—dreaded, really—all week, Tony doesn’t look angry. Instead, he holds up a bag of takeout, and huffs out a little laugh at the undoubtedly shocked expression on Bucky’s face. “Want to let me in, big guy?”

Bucky steps aside wordlessly, gesturing for Tony to go sit on the couch while he goes to fetch plates and forks from the kitchen. And also take a moment to breathe, and tell himself that freaking out is not what he should be doing right now. Tony seeking him out has to be a good sign.

Probably.

Right?

His little pep talk proves to have been entirely useless when Bucky comes back into the living room, and nearly drops everything he’s carrying when he spots what looks like a copy of a very familiar report sitting on the coffee table next to the fried rice.

“Tony, I—”

“Sit down,” Tony interrupts, firm but not unkind.

Bucky does as he’s told, sitting down as far away on the couch from Tony as possible. He keeps his eyes down, on his own, white-knuckled fingers, unable to look at Tony. His face is burning, he can feel it, and he feels nauseated, not entirely sure he isn’t actually going to throw up if he opens his mouth.

But he doesn’t have to, anyway, because it’s Tony who starts talking while he’s dishing out the food. “Let me start by saying that it wasn’t Tasha’s fault, okay?” Bucky’s confused for a second until Tony continues, “She did what she was supposed to by putting the reports into the database.”

Shit. Bucky hadn’t thought of that; Tony’d started collecting everything they were able to find about HYDRA right after Project Insight, trying to get to the bottom of it, find out the full extent of the corruption and damage. A lot of it had already been public, thanks to Nat uploading it to expose HYDRA in the first place, but they still find new info during missions, from time to time. And dutifully log all of it.

Quietly, Bucky asks, “How’d you figure out that I know?”

“Apart from you literally running away after I kissed you?” There’s amusement in Tony’s voice, and when Bucky finally dares to look up, his eyes are crinkled, one corner of his mouth turned up. “Not to toot my own horn, here, but I can usually tell if people are attracted to me or not. And I was pretty confident that you were, so.”

“I was,” Bucky confirms, swallowing hard. Ducking his head, he adds, “I am.”

Tony nods, and picks up one of the plates. After swallowing a bit of chicken, he says, “So, I figured there had to be another reason. I was going to give you some space, some time—well, a little bit of time. The kids aren’t that patient yet.”

Bucky winces, because yeah. That’s one way to make him feel even more terrible.

Seemingly able to tell, Tony puts his plate back down, and scoots closer to Bucky, putting a hand on his thigh. “I didn’t mean—look. Was it a shitty thing to do, running away like that? Sure. But Bucky, I get it. I don’t particularly like it, and if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll let you deal with getting Theo to bed for a week, but I get it. All right? I do.”

Tentatively, Bucky covers Tony’s hand with his own. “‘M sorry.”

Tony links their fingers together, squeezing gently. “I know. Trust me, I know,” he says, chuckling softly. He cups Bucky’s cheek with his free hand, making Bucky meet his eyes. “Do you have any idea how you look at me? How you look at my kids? All of them, but Gabriel especially? I’ve always been able to tell there is something there, that you care about us—”

“I love you,” Bucky blurts, then winces. But, in for a penny, in for a pound. “I love you. You, the boys. All of you. An’ not just because of Gabriel, you have to believe me.”

“I do,” Tony reassures him softly, resting his forehead against Bucky’s.

Bucky closes his eyes, embarrassed by how close to tears he suddenly is. “I don’t remember. I’ve read that fuckin’ mission report so many times, but I still can’t remember. How do I—what do I—he’s mine, an’ I can’t even remember that night.”

He lets Tony pull him in close, wrapping his arms tightly around Tony’s waist. He buries his face in Tony’s neck, breathing hard, while Tony strokes his hair, lips pressed against the side of Bucky’s face. “Hey, ssh. It doesn’t matter, it’s okay. You’re here now, you’re here with us. We’ll figure it out, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

“I shoulda told you,” Bucky chokes out, clinging harder. “After I found out, I shoulda told you.”

“You should have,” Tony agrees. He pulls back, but only enough so he can see Bucky’s face again. “And I wish you would have, but let’s be real; I wouldn’t have known how to do it, either, if it’d been the other way around. Hell, I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d found out you’re Gabriel’s father, and hadn’t immediately realised that you already knew. It’s kind of a big thing to have to tell someone.”

Gabriel’s father. Bucky’s Gabriel’s father. It’s not like he hadn’t known, before, but it’s something entirely different to hear Tony say it. Going by the way Tony’s mouth curves up into this tiny, teasing smile, he knows exactly what Bucky’s thinking, and, well.

Bucky really has no choice but to kiss him.

Tony lets out this breath of a laugh against Bucky’s lips, but kisses back eagerly, pressing in close. They keep it chaste, by mutual, unspoken agreement, but it hits Bucky hard nonetheless; there’s no more hiding, no more nagging guilt, because Tony knows, and Tony is happy about it. Tony’s happy that Bucky’s Gabriel’s father, and Tony wants Bucky back.

It’s a heady feeling.

The kiss ends much too soon for Bucky’s liking, with Tony moving back this time around. Bucky makes a noise of complaint, chasing after Tony’s mouth, which makes Tony laugh, and quickly peck his lips again before gently pushing him away.

“Sorry, it’s just,” he says, huffing a little, and turns to look at the front door, which, Bucky notices, is standing slightly ajar. “You’re supposed to be with Steve and Sam.”

The door bangs open fully as Max bounds into the apartment, looking extremely proud of himself. “We snuck away!” he exclaims, and then, gaze zeroing in on the food, asks, “Are there spring rolls?”

“Spring rolls!” Theo chirps excitedly, from his position in Gabriel’s arms. “Food, food, food!”

Gabriel rolls his eyes—and Christ, does he look exactly like Bucky knows he does when he does that—and unceremoniously dumps Theo on the carpet next to the coffee table before plopping down in the seat next to Bucky.

Max and Theo happily dig into the food, but Gabriel is looking between Tony and Bucky, brows furrowed. “Did you make up?”

Tony looks up from where he’s trying to keep Theo’s fingers out of the noodle carton, face going all soft and fond. “Yes, sweetheart, we did.”

Gabriel relaxes visibly, but keeps looking at Bucky for confirmation. Bucky has to clear his throat before he can say, “We’re fine, I promise.”

“Finally,” Gabriel mutters, but he looks pleased, and only complains the normal teenage amount when Bucky pulls him into a hug, and messes up his hair.

Bucky has no idea when or how he and Tony are going to tell him and the little ones about the changes in their relationship, or about Bucky being his biological father, and about how Gabriel came to be. But he knows, whatever happens, however they decide to handle it, he won’t have to do it alone, because Tony will be right there by his side.

And that’s enough for now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, folks; fluff. All of the fluff.

**Epilogue**

Tarragona in August is breathtakingly beautiful, bustling with tourists from all around the world, and almost broiling hot.

Bucky loves it, but the same can, unfortunately, not be said for Isobel. She’d refused to go down for her nap until Bucky had lifted her back out of her crib, carried her outside, and settled down on the big lounge chair under the awning with her snuggled against his chest, letting the cool sea breeze calm her down.

She’s obviously done sleeping now, though, waking Bucky from his own doze by wiggling around impatiently, and letting out annoyed little huffs against his collarbone. Bucky opens one eye to squint down at her, and gently strokes a few of her dark curls back from her forehead. She squeals excitedly once she realises she has his attention, reaching up to try and tug at his beard, smiling gummily.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Bucky observes, chuckling softly. He leans down to pepper her cheeks with kisses, making her giggle. “You feelin’ better now, darlin’ girl?”

“Uh-ah,” Isobel babbles back, which Bucky decides to take as a yes.

They’re in the shade, and he’d covered her in what’d felt like half a bottle sunscreen, so she should be fine. He sits up when she keeps craning her neck towards the noise coming from the pool, turning her around to lie on her stomach between his legs so she can see what’s going on.

She starts cooing at the sight of Tony, rocking back and forth on her tummy. Bucky puts a hand on her butt, just to be safe, even though she doesn’t have crawling down just yet.

In the pool, Max laughs as Léon throws him, hitting the water with a shriek and a splash. Theo doggy paddles over to Léon, demanding his own turn, all flailing limbs and high-pitched screeches as he sails through the air. Léon goes after Tony next, chasing him halfway across the pool while Max and Theo yell and cheer before dunking him. Tony comes up spluttering, and immediately returns the favour, much to the boys’ delight.

Bucky rubs Isobel’s back, and rolls his eyes. He’d thought having an extra adult around would give them all some more time to relax, but Tony and Léon seem incapable of staying serious around each other, so it’s actually like being on holiday with five kids and a baby instead. Not that Bucky minds; Léon is a great guy, happy to watch all four kids when Tony and Bucky want to go out for dinner or drinks, and makes sure this whole patchwork thing stays uncomplicated with his easygoing attitude.

The balcony door is sliding open, then, and Gabriel shuffles through, bleary-eyed and yawning. He pats Isobel’s head as he climbs over Bucky’s legs to squeeze onto the chair next to him, head landing heavily on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky shrugs to jostle him, laughing softly at Gabriel’s disgruntled whine. “I’d say good mornin’, but it’s almost three. When’d you get to bed last night?”

Gabriel grunts, which, Bucky figures, is answer enough. He puts an arm around Gabriel, letting him snuggle in close, and kisses his temple.

“Ugh,” Gabriel grumbles, but doesn’t move away, just sighs a sigh of teenage exasperation when Bucky does it again. “Fine, whatever.”

“What,” Bucky teases, rubbing their cheeks together, “I can’t be happy you’re up?”

Gabriel squirms, trying to dodge Bucky, until he manages to hide his face in Bucky’s neck. “You’re itchy,” he complains, but Bucky can feel him smile.

“Love you, kid,” he says, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of Gabriel’s head, and hides his undoubtedly sappy expression in Gabriel’s hair when Gabriel mumbles back, “Love you, too, dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky: Do we use protection, or...?  
> Tony: Nah, c'mon. I'm nearing 50, it's not like you're going to accidentally get me pregnant. Again.  
> Isobel, 9 months later: Surprise, lol. 
> 
> And, because I know you love this kind of stuff; the kids' names! 
> 
> Gabriel was named after Gabriel Jones of the Howling Commandos. Because Gabe and Tony were close, yes, but also because Gabe just straight out punched Obie in the face when Tony got pregnant, and Obie was a dick about it. His full name is Gabriel Timothy James, and that literally covers all of Tony's Howlie uncles. Rhodey never outright said so, but Tony always had a feeling he was a tiny little bit jealous that the James in Gabriel's name wasn't there because of him. He nearly cried when Tony announced that Max's middle name was going to be Rupert. And Steve actually did cry when Tony told him Theo's middle name would be Grant. With Isobel, Tony only insisted that he wanted her to have Maria as a middle name, after his mother. Bucky picked Isobel because he liked it, and refused to name her after anyone still alive after witnessing Rhodey and Steve argue about whose godson had the more badass middle name (and godfather).

**Author's Note:**

> There's a reblogable version of this [here](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/post/172625801013/imagine-that-tony-has-a-kid-that-looks-so-much) on tumblr. 
> 
> Go check out my other [work](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/works), or come over and say hi on [tumblr](http://potrix-the-queerschlaeger.tumblr.com).


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